


if my wishes came true, it would've been you

by LunaHufflepuff



Category: WandaVision (TV), X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Evan Peters Peter Maximoff, Fix-It, Gen, I'm in denial about Ralph Bohner, feminine!reader, title from Taylor Swift (the 1)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:02:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29891199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaHufflepuff/pseuds/LunaHufflepuff
Summary: Peter sighed. “Jimmy, I think we’ve got bigger problems than my two weeks of missing memories.”“What do you mean?” The man replied with a frown.Peter couldn't help but smirk as pieces of the puzzle came together. It was exactly his luck to end up in a situation like this.“Jimmy, I think I’m in the wrong universe.”When Peter Maximoff wakes up with no memories of the past two weeks, he's confused, to say the least. And now people are saying his name is Ralph Bohner? Luckily, S.W.O.R.D. knows a telepath that could help jog his memories.
Relationships: Peter Maximoff/ Reader, Pietro Maximoff/Reader
Comments: 18
Kudos: 95





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm still in denial about the whole Ralph Bohner thing. To combat this, I've written a self indulgent fic. To clarify, reader uses feminine pronouns. Enjoy!

Peter could confidently say this was the worst headache he’d ever had.

Well, there was that one time he convinced Kurt to help him steal from the Professor's liquor cellar. Those bottles were perfect for celebrating Scott’s 21st birthday but no, not even that hangover came anywhere near the pain he now felt.

It took several moments for Peter to convince himself to open his eyes and when he did, they instantly slammed back shut. The intense heat he was feeling was apparently from the bright sun shining overhead. Well, at least that meant he wasn’t sick. That still didn’t explain why he was in pain and couldn’t quite remember how he got to be that way.

Taking a deep breath, Peter forced his eyes back open and used a hand to shield his face from the sun. Blinking a few times, Peter’s eyes began to adjust to the sunlight and he was surprised to find he was laying on the sidewalk in a suburban neighborhood.

Well, that was certainly interesting.

With a groan, Peter got to his feet and took in his surroundings. The street he found himself in was lined with similar looking houses with only variations in window placements and colors and he was faintly reminded of the neighborhood he grew up in. 

Picking a random direction, Peter began walking down the street at a normal speed. While he walked, Peter tried to concentrate on the last thing he could remember.

 _A mission!_

Yes, he remembered embarking on a mission with the rest of the X-Men. They were breaking into a facility that was apparently experimenting on a mutant. Once in, they split up to search the base and Peter then discovered a strange machine that projected a blue energy field. He remembered approaching it–which was probably not the smartest idea–and a flash of light. There was a smirking, brown haired woman and then… nothing.

Why couldn’t he remember anything after that?

Peter was brought out of his thoughts when he realized he was now in a town square filled with a flurry of activity.

There were several tents set up on the street and a combination of soldiers and civilians lined the streets. Deciding to take a closer look at things, Peter used his speed to survey the weary faces of the men and women along with the pitting looks of workers wearing ‘FBI’ and ‘S.W.O.R.D.’ uniforms.

Before any of the people around him could blink, Peter looked in the three tents and saw one of them held a group of doctors and nurses, and the other two contained workers with computers interviewing people. Peter considered looking through the computers but they looked more sophisticated than even some of the Professor’s machines and so he decided against it.

Returning to a normal pace, Peter approached the nearest person.

“Excuse me?” Peter said, tapping a man wearing an FBI jacket on the shoulder.

The man, who looked to be of Asian-descent, turned around with a weary smile. “Hi, can I– _Ralph Bohner?_ ”

Peter couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped his lips. “Ha! _Boner_!”

The man, who Peter saw from his name tag was called Woo, stared at him with wide eyes. “I–we’ve been looking for you!”

Peter glanced to his right and saw a pack of plastic water bottles on a nearby table. Suddenly feeling thirsty, Peter grabbed a water and took a sip before Woo could even blink.

“Why have you been looking for me?” Peter asked nonchalantly.

Woo stared at the bottle that seemingly appeared in Peter’s hand for several seconds before turning his gaze back to Peter. “Well, Ralph, thanks to you we were able to find out about the Hex and get help.”

Peter raised an eyebrow at Woo’s words. “Who are you calling Ralph?”

A frown appeared on Woo’s face. “You’re–you’re _not_ Ralph Bohner?”

“Whose last name is _boner_?” Peter replied with an eye roll. “I’m Peter.”

“Wait a second,” Woo said as he turned on the tablet that was previously idle in his hand. After a few seconds, Woo’s eyes lit up and he showed Peter the tablet. “This _isn’t_ you?”

On the rectangular screen was a wide picture of a brown haired Peter in a blue shirt, staring intently at the camera. The name ‘Ralph Bohner’ appeared above the image in a bold font.

“Well,” Peter said, suddenly at loss for words. “That’s definitely me.”

Woo nodded, seemingly satisfied. “When we saw that Wanda had you playing Pietro, we got worried, especially since it appeared you had superspeed–”

“I do have superspeed,” Peter said through a mouthful of chips he grabbed from the medical tent. “And who’s Wanda?”

Woo’s jaw hung open for a few seconds, his eyes transfixed on Peter’s bag of chips. Peter offered the bag to Woo but he waved it away wordlessly.

“How do you–” The FBI agent started to say before a thought seemingly occurred to him. “You don’t remember the past two weeks?”

Panic began to rise in Peter as more questions pushed to the front of his mind. Why couldn’t he remember anything after meeting that brown haired woman? What events was Woo referring to? And who is Wanda? The name sounded painfully familiar yet he couldn’t remember why.

“Am I supposed to?” Peter asked as he eyed the FBI agent warily. 

“Let me show you something.”

Seeing himself on TV was a strange experience. Seeing himself on TV in a sitcom he had no memory of was even more so.

“Hey, can I ask you a question?” Peter said when the recording he was shown ended.

Woo, who now introduced himself as simply Jimmy, gave him a curious look. “Sure.”

Peter pondered if he should approach the subject more delicately but decided against it. “Are you familiar with the X-Men?’

Jimmy blinked. “The ex what?”

“The group of mutant heroes? Led by Mystique?” Jimmy continued to stare at Peter like he had grown a second head and he tried again. “Does the name Charles Xavier ring any bells?”

Jimmy thought for a second before answering, “Is that a singer?”

Peter sighed. “Jimmy, I think we’ve got bigger problems than my two weeks of missing memories.”

“What do you mean?” He replied with a frown.

Peter couldn't help but smirk as pieces of the puzzle came together. It was exactly his luck to end up in a situation like this.

“Jimmy, I think I’m in the wrong universe.”


	2. Chapter 1

Being a well-known telepath, you weren’t surprised that S.W.O.R.D. was requesting your help after Wanda’s incursion in Westview. You were surprised, however, when you found out what it was they needed you to do.

“I know this is a big ask,” Monica Rambeau, the Acting Director for S.W.O.R.D., said solemnly, “But he seems genuine and everything else we’ve tried hasn’t worked.”

Uncertainty crept on you as you pondered your option. You could do as Rambeau asked, and possibly uncover some dangerous truths, or you could go back to the quiet life you were making for yourself.

On impulse, you tapped into the Acting Director’s surface thoughts.

_I hope they say yes._

_I don’t know what we’ll do otherwise._

_My mother would have known–_

You pulled away from the young woman’s mind and her thoughts that were spiraling into something more personal. You had seen enough.

“Where is he?”

Maybe if you hadn’t been so overwhelmed by the onslaught of thoughts attacking your mind, you might have been amused to find that S.W.O.R.D.’s intimidating Headquarters also housed a rec room that included a flat-screen TV and ping pong table.

Years of practice made blocking out other people’s thoughts fairly instinctual, even if you occasionally slipped up. Yet the second you and Rambeau got off the elevator to this floor, a flurry of thoughts flooded your mind.

_Am I hungry?_

_What’s this channel?_

_A cupcake!_

_Boring!_

_Whoops, I nearly missed that._

You clenched your fists at the bombardment of thoughts as Monica led you down a hallway. Why were you having trouble keeping all these thoughts out? And the hallway you were walking down seemed deserted so why were so many thoughts reaching you?

“This is it,” Rambeau said and you realized the two of you had come to a stop outside a door marked ‘Recreation Room’. “Fair warning, it can be a bit confusing at first.”

Before you could question what she meant, Rambeau pushed the door open and led you inside.

The rec room was a bright, spacious area with a whole wall made entirely of windows that looked out onto a grassy field. The room itself had several couches facing a TV, a kitchenette complete with a fridge and stove, several tables with brightly colored chairs, a dartboard, and a ping pong table.

And more importantly, a blur of grey and blue surrounding said ping pong table.

“Peter!” Rambeau called out, causing the blur to stop and several things became clear to you.

First, the blur was actually a young man with silvery blonde hair. You could guess he was in his early thirties but his relaxed grin and shaggy hair gave him a boyish air.

Second, the flurry of thoughts suddenly stopped, instead becoming just one person’s line of thought.

Third, the young man in front of you was somehow responsible for the onslaught of thoughts that were just overwhelming you.

“Hey, Monica,” He greeted with a smile, “Have you brought someone else to babysit me?”

Glancing over, you saw a smile tug at the corners of the previously serious woman’s face. “Actually, no,” She replied, leading you over to a nearby table. “I brought someone I think could really help you.”

_She’s pretty._

The young man’s voice echoed in your head as you took a seat next to Rambeau and you had to hold back a smile. 

In the blink of an eye, the man appeared in the seat across from you, a bowl of pretzels in hand.

Could he teleport? You couldn’t figure out how he appeared and reappeared holding something new in a fraction of a second.

_Should I have been more subtle with the superspeed?_

The young man’s perfectly timed thought answered your question.

“Y/N,” Rambeau said, “I’d like to introduce you to Peter Maximoff. Peter, this is Y/N L/N.”

Peter smiled at you and held out a hand and you shook it hesitantly.

After a few seconds, Peter dropped his hand, an awkward look flickering across his face. He cleared his throat and turned to Rambeau. “So, are we going to be sharing icebreakers or is there a more important reason we’re doing this?”

Rambeau smiled at the silvery-blonde haired man’s forwardness. “Peter, I know we’ve been trying a bunch of different things to jog your memory but Y/N here might just be the one to solve our problems.” Peter raised an eyebrow at the woman’s claim. “Peter, Y/N is a telepath.”

Peter’s brown eyes widened, obviously impressed at the news. He turned to you. “So are you going to look in my head, look through my darkest secrets and pull out my missing memories?”

You couldn’t help but smile at his oversimplification of the process. “In a nutshell, yes. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone of any weird hobbies you have.”

The young man smiled. “So how does this work? I’ve met two mind readers before and they each had different approaches to the whole getting into people’s head.”

Your eyes widened. “You’ve met other telepaths?” The only other telepath you’d met was Wanda.

Peter nodded, “Yeah, but I guess you’ll see them when you go into my memories.”

You wanted to press the subject but you figured he was probably right. Standing up, you moved so you were instead seated in the chair next to Peter facing him.

The silvery blonde haired man looked surprised by your actions but turned to face you as well. 

“I’ll try to be as gentle as I can, but the deeper I go, the more it might hurt.”

With that, you reached forward, placing your hands on Peter’s temples as the tips of your fingers glowed a faint pink.

Tapping into a person’s surface thoughts was always the easiest thing as it happened automatically if you didn’t block it out.

Within seconds, you could hear a string of Peter’s thoughts.

_That pink is kinda cool._

_I wonder if this is going to take a while._

_Will the process be interrupted if I get up and get some more food?_

Soon enough, it became clear that Peter’s superspeed was the reason his thoughts moved so rapidly and the onslaught of thoughts you felt earlier were all his, his mind was just moving so quickly they seemed like separate people’s.

You often thought of surface thoughts as a layer of clouds and so you pushed past them, ready to see what was on the other side.

Every person’s mind was different but, through experience, you had learned that it was best to start with the person’s most recent memory and work back from there.

After a second, you tapped into Peter’s perspective of the past several minutes and saw yourself through his eyes. You were tempted to see what he thought of you but decided against it, knowing it was best to respect people’s privacy.

After that, you shifted through his mind, seeing that he had spent the past week at S.W.O.R.D.’s Headquarters. The week was spent with several doctors and psychiatrists as they attempted a variety of techniques to recall Peter’s memory of the two weeks he spent under Agatha’s control.

You even saw them showing him pictures that the FBI had of him as part of the Witness Protection Program. Apparently, they had him under the name Ralph Bohner.

You moved farther back in his memory until you suddenly reached a towering brick wall that was covered in dark vines that gave off a purple glow. Frowning you looked around and saw that the wall seemed to go up infinitely. As this was simply a mind space and not a real place, you flew up until you finally reached the top of the wall. Unfortunately, you quickly discovered the wall was part of a brick cube, also covered in the purple vines.

Summoning the pink energy to your hands, you hit the cub as hard as you could. You had seen plenty of people who went through a traumatic event and their minds built a block to protect themselves from the trauma. Unlike all those other times, the cube stayed put, seemingly unaffected. You tried again only to find the same result.

Pulling out of Peter’s mind, you opened your eyes back to S.W.O.R.D.’s rec room.

When you pulled your hands away from Peter’s temples, he grimaced. Evidently, your attempts to break down the wall did cause him some pain.

You turned your chair so you could face Peter and Rambeau. “There’s a block in his mind that I can’t get past. Seeing as Peter isn’t a telepath, it looks like someone put it there to cover up whatever they did to him. My guess is that’s Agatha’s work.”

Rambeau nodded solemnly. “We figured as much.” She paused and continued. “Well, thank you for coming in, we appreciate you trying–”

“Who says I’m done?” You cut in with a frown. At the two adults' surprised faces you continued. “I didn’t get in now but I think with enough time, I can figure it out.”

A smile appeared on Rambeau’s face. “That’s great. Will you be able to come in tomorrow? We can find you a hotel and–”

“Sorry, but no.” You spoke up, surprising the woman. “This is going to take time and concentration, something I can’t do at some unknown military base.” The Acting Director seemed to want to say something but you didn’t give her a chance. “I live about an hour outside New York City. If I’m going to do this, we do it where I live.”

Rambeau seemed uncertain, “I’m not sure that’s the best–”

“I’m in,” Peter piped up with a grin. “I’ve been in this base way too long and seeing as these are _my_ memories, I think I have the final say.”

After a few seconds, Rambeau sighed. “I suppose we can find him a hotel close to you.”


	3. Chapter 2

You pulled the kettle off the stove just in time to hear the doorbell ring.

“Coming!” You called out as you poured the boiling water into two mugs with tea bags. Walking down the hall, the doorbell rang again.

“ _ So impatient _ ,” You mumbled to yourself as you unlocked the front door and swung it open.

Just as you expected, Peter Maximoff was standing on your front porch.

“ ’Morning,” He greeted with a wave.

Further opening the door, you led Peter into your living room. “It’s 3 pm. I think ‘afternoon’ is more accurate.”

Peter shrugged as he plopped down on the reclining chair in your living room. “As someone who doesn’t like waking up before noon, I’d say it’s still afternoon.”

“Fair enough,” You acknowledged with a smile. “I made us some tea in the kitchen so I’ll go get–” Before you could finish, Peter set down two mugs on the coffee table.

The silvery blond haired man smiled at you. “I figured I’d save you some effort.” 

You thanked him with a nod, still not used to Peter’s casual use of his powers. For you, using your powers was only to be done when the situation required it. Taking a sip, you looked at the young man next to you. “So, how did you get superspeed?”

Peter raised an eyebrow at your question. “Can’t you just look in my head and see?”

“I could,” You acknowledged, taking another sip of tea. “But, seeing as I’m going to be going into your mind, I figured I’d still give you  _ some _ privacy.”

The young man eyed you curiously. “Well, technically, I’ve always had superspeed. But it didn’t present itself until I was in middle school. Let’s just say that 12 year old me and the ability to go faster than the speed of sound were a chaotic combination.”

From what you had seen of Peter, he was a very energetic individual. You could only imagine the headaches he must have given those around him as a teenager.

Taking in the information, you straighten in your seat. “Well, let’s get started, shall we?”

Peter nodded. “So are we going to do the same thing as last time? Because it sort of gave me a headache.”

“Actually, we’re going to try a different approach.” You replied. “Yesterday, I started with your most recent memories and worked backward from there. So today, I want you to tell me the earliest memory you can remember. Even if it’s just a brief image of someone’s face.”

“Earliest memory, huh?” Peter paused, clearly thinking over your request. After several seconds, he spoke up. “Okay, I think I’ve got it.”

Finishing your tea, you nodded. “Tell me about it. Think of as many details as you can.”

“Well, I think I was five or six.” He replied slowly, clearly thinking over his words. “I was outside, in my backyard, I think. I’m pretty sure I was alone but I’m not one hundred percent sure. What I do remember is that I was running as fast as I could.” He paused, a smile appearing on his face. “Kinda fitting it turned out I have superspeed.”

“That’s a good start.” You praised. Pausing, you patted the cushion next to you on the couch you were seated at. “Come sit and I’m going to try going into your head.”

Peter followed your instructions, plopping down next to you. He gave you an awkward smile. “Let’s do this thing.” 

You smiled at his relaxed attitude. “Okay, concentrate on that memory and I’m going to use that to go in.”

Peter nodded and so you placed your hands on his temples and entered his mind.

Due to his focus on the memory, it appeared as part of his surface thoughts and so you took a look into it.

Looking in, you found yourself in a young Peter’s perspective as he ran through a grassy yard, panting at the effort of running so fast. Like most people’s early memories, the image was somewhat blurry, the details having been lost after so many years.

The advantage of latching on to an early memory is that it made it easier for you to then access memories buried deeper in a person’s subconscious. Although you doubted this was a case of a person’s brain blocking out a traumatic event, you figured treating Peter’s missing memories as such would be the best approach.

Whenever a person’s brain blocks out a set of memories, they were still in their mind, just buried deep in the person's subconscious. To do this, it would require you to go deep into Peter’s head.

Discarding Peter’s earliest memory, you then went deeper, to the layer of a person’s mind that housed their insecurities. You were instantly surprised to see that Peter had so many.

_ I bet none of the X-Men have even realized I’m gone. _

_ It’s not like I’m even a very important member of the team. _

_ They probably don’t even miss me. _

You felt a swell of pity for Peter. He obviously cared deeply for whoever the ‘X-Men’ are and his insecurities fed off that. You were briefly tempted to listen to more but reminded yourself of your mission. Taking a deep breath, you dove farther in, this time to Peter’s fears.

In the three times you unlocked trauma victims’ blocked-off memories, their fears housed traces of their lost memories.

Unlike insecurities, a person’s fears are presented as a combination of thoughts and images that floated around. For Peter’s fears, you were instantly met by the image of a man wearing dark red metal armor with a matching helmet. 

His face was twisted in a sneer as he spoke. “ _ You’re not my son, you’re a  _ disappointment _. _ ”

With glowing pink hands, you effortlessly pushed the man aside. Taking a deep breath, you strained your ears, listening to see if you could hear a fear you could work with.

_ One day, I’m going to mess up and people will end up dead. _

_ One day, I’m going to mess up and  _ I’ll _ end up dead. _

_ I’m so easily manipulated. _

_ That works! _ Reaching out, you latched onto the fear and pushed forward, urging Peter’s mind to elaborate on the fear.

Holding onto the thought as if it were a rope, you passed a flurry of images until you suddenly hit the brick, vine-covered wall with a thud.

You gasped, pulling out of Peter’s mind.

Blinking, you realized that the sunlight that earlier illuminated the living room had faded, the sun now beginning to set. Next to you, Peter looked dazed and he put a hand to his head, evidently nursing a headache.

You forced yourself to take deep breaths to slow your racing heart. Your body ached, feeling like it really  _ had _ slammed against a brick wall.

Even as Peter massaged his temple, he gave you a concerned look. “Are you alright? I’m pretty sure we were doing that for a few hours.”

You managed to smile at the man’s concern. “I’m fine. The real question is, are you? I went pretty deep in there.”

You blinked and Peter suddenly handed you a cup of water. “I’m not the one who just exerted what was probably a massive amount of power. You kinda look like you’re going to be sick.”

“Way to make a girl feel special.” You quipped even as you gratefully accepted the water. Drinking nearly half the cup you continued. “Sorry I wasn't able to make any progress.”

Peter waved a hand. “Hey, Paris wasn’t built in a day.”

“Don’t you mean Rome?”

“Yeah, there too,” Peter replied and you realized he was joking. Leaning back on the couch, he continued. “But seriously, I appreciate you helping me. If anyone stands a chance of finding my memories, it definitely wasn’t any of those doctors. It’s going to be you. ”

“Thanks,” You said with a smile, glad to know he had faith in you. Reaching over to the coffee table, you picked up your phone and were surprised at the time displayed. “Yikes, it’s already 6 o’clock.”

Peter leaned over and read the time as well. “Wow, time flies when…a person looks through your head.” You laughed at his comment. “Well, I guess I should get out of your hair.”

The young man began to stand up but you held out a hand to stop him. “If you want, you can stay for dinner?”

A wide grin spread across Peter’s face. “Do you have any pizza?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone reading and supporting this story! Feel free to comment and let me know what you think is happening with Peter's memories!


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible(?) trigger warning: Discussion of physical pain.  
> I'm not sure if that warrants a trigger warning but I figured I'd include it just in case. Enjoy!

The next several days went similarly to the first as Peter came to your house every afternoon. Admittedly, you hadn’t made much progress in breaking down the barrier in Peter’s mind but you found yourself enjoying the speedster’s company.

There was something about Peter’s easy-going nature and humor that made you feel at ease around him. Maybe it was because you lived alone in a relatively isolated area but when Peter came over, your house always felt more lively.

It also seemed like every night he stayed later than the night before. You always ate dinner together and ended up talking even after you finished eating.

You and Peter had long since finished dinner and cleared the table yet you continued to talk.

“So you asked if he knew _karate_ ?” You laughed and had to fight back tears of laughter. “Seconds after he told you he was in jail for killing the _president_ you asked if he knew _karate_?”

“I did,” Peter confirmed, joining your laughter. “I didn’t know what to say so I just said the first thing I thought of.”

You shook your head as your laughter died down. “Only you, Peter Maximoff, can manage to break into the Pentagon at _17_ but be incapable of having a normal conversation.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Tomorrow, make a detour in my head and see the conversation for yourself. It was _awkward_.”

The man’s words made the smile slip from your face. “Hey, Peter?” 

“Hey, Y/N,” He replied mockingly.

His joke didn’t elicit a laugh as you made sure the sincerity was clear in your voice. “You do know I’m trying my best to find your memories.”

“Of course I know that,” Peter replied instantly. He leaned over and placed his hand over yours, his touch reassuring. “And I can’t thank you enough for it.”

You met Peter’s brown eyes and felt a rush of warmth. His eyes held such kindness and you could feel yourself getting lost in them.

Several seconds passed when Peter looked away, a faint blush on his cheeks. He removed his hand from yours and used it to rustle his silver hair.

“Well,” He said, clearing his throat, “It’s pretty late so…I should probably head back to my hotel.”

“You can stay here.” You blurted out stopping Peter who was in the process of standing up. “I mean, it’s like you said, it’s late. I have a guest room you can stay in…if you want.”

You felt your cheeks heat up and mentally prepared yourself for Peter to awkwardly decline. Despite having gotten to know each other pretty well over the past week, asking him to stay the night seemed a bit forward.

“Alright,” Peter said, surprising you. A mischievous twinkle appeared in his eyes. “But I expect pancakes for breakfast.”

_Pain. A searing pain._

_It felt like flames were spreading across your skin. Unlike flames, this felt achingly cold, like being submerged in the Arctic Ocean._

_There was a throbbing pain near your ribs and just breathing took a massive amount of effort._

_Y/N?_

_The voice sounded muffled like it was said across a great distance. You faintly wondered who called your name but the pain was all-encompassing._

Y/N!

“Y/N!”

Your eyes flew open and you felt sweat soaking your pajamas.

Blinking several times, you realized the lamp across your bedroom was turned on and a concerned look Peter was sitting on the edge of your bed.

“What happened?” You mumbled, turning to Peter as you sat up in bed. He was wearing one of the oversized shirts that you found in the back of your closet and his hair was sticking up at odd angles, obviously having just woken up.

“You were having a nightmare,” Peter explained, sending you a reassuring smile. “I heard you scream so I came to your room.”

“Sorry,” You mumbled, suddenly embarrassed at waking Peter up. You invited him to stay the night and now you were worrying him in the middle of the night. “I haven’t slept around someone in a while so I didn’t know I still yelled during my nightmares.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Do you get nightmares often?”

You shrugged and looked down at your hands. “I guess. A lot less than I used to.”

“I get nightmares too.”

You instantly looked up surprised by Peter’s words. “You do?”

“You’ve been in my head. I’ve been through some pretty weird shit.” Peter joked. After a second, his gaze turned serious. “They’re usually about my friends dying. I’m okay once I wake up and remember it’s not real.”

You met Peter’s brown gaze. “What about when they’re memories, things that actually _did_ happen?”

Peter pondered your question. “Sometimes it helps me to think about the people around me. The mansion is filled with people so some nights I would walk around and ground myself by just seeing them. I’ve found it helps to focus on all the people in my life and remember all the good things I’ve done for them. It reminds me there’s good out there, despite all the shitty things in my life.”

You smiled at Peter. “Who knew you were so insightful.”

The man rolled his eyes. “I’m just full of surprises.” He paused and continued. “Now that you’re good, I’ll go back to my room. You probably prefer quiet for falling asleep.”

Peter stood up but you reached your hand out, grabbing a hold of his wrist. “Peter, will you stay with me?”

He stared at you for a few seconds before nodding. “Alright.”

You scooted over, and in that time, Peter turned off the lamp and laid down next to you. You faintly wondered if this was a bad idea but the thought was quickly dismissed when Peter leaned over and wrapped an arm around you.

_This is amazing._

Being in such close contact with Peter, his thoughts reached you and you couldn’t help but agree. 

Laying your head on Peter’s chest with his arms around you, you found this to be the safest you’d ever felt. Was it strange to feel so comfortable in the arms of a man you met a week ago? Probably, but it felt like you’d gotten to know Peter so well in that time.

Soon enough, you started to feel sleep creep in. Just as sleep finally overtook you, what felt like a pair of lips pressed against your head.


	5. Chapter 4

After you fell back asleep, you slept the best you had in a long time.

Opening your eyes, you were initially confused to see the area next to you on the bed was empty. However, a loud noise echoed from down the hall distracted you.

With a sigh, you left your bedroom and followed the clattering that was coming from the kitchen. Walking through the doorway, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight before you.

A variety of pots and bowls were scattered across all your kitchen counters. You could see a bag of flour next to the stove and one of your recipe books was left laying dangerously close to the running sink. And, standing in the middle of it all was Peter.

He still wore the same clothes as last night but his hair was now slightly neater. He was staring intently out the window, a slight frown on his handsome face.

“Peter?” To your bewilderment, Peter continued to stare out the window despite you saying his name. Taking another step forward, you spoke louder. “Peter?”

The speedster suddenly straightened and turned to face you, a smile spreading across his face.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty!” Peter greeted, speeding over so he was now standing right in front of you.

“Good morning?” You replied uncertainly. His whole demeanor had now changed from when he was staring pensively out the window, replaced with happy energy. “Are you alright?”

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well you were–” You stopped, pondering your next words. He seemed fine now, so why bring it up? He was most likely just deep in thought. “Nevermind. So, what’s with the mess in my kitchen?”

A light blush appeared on Peter’s cheeks. “Well, I was originally going to try and make you breakfast. I got everything out but then I remembered I’m hopeless at cooking and figured you probably wouldn’t appreciate me burning down your house while you slept.”

You felt a warmth in your chest and your smile widened. “I thought  _ I _ was the one who was supposed to make  _ you _ pancakes.”

Peter grinned good-naturedly. “Technically, yes.” He paused and his eyes softened, “But you had a rough night so I wanted to do something special for you.”

_ You deserve it. _

Peter’s thought unwillingly entered your mind and you felt a swell thankfulness for the speedster. You found yourself staring intently into Peter’s brown eyes and his shoulders softened like he too felt comfort by looking into your eyes.

After several seconds, you looked away and cleared your throat. “So, if you didn’t make pancakes, what are we eating then?”

You blinked and Peter suddenly appeared, holding two bowls full of cereal. “I noticed you have a lot of those healthy cereals but I managed to find an actually edible one,” Peter explained and he gestured to the bowls. “Presenting: Lucky Charms!”

Deciding to humor him, you took one of the bowls and sat down at the kitchen table. Just as you realized you didn’t have milk, a carton of milk appeared along with a smiling Peter sitting next to you.

“So I was thinking,” Peter said while you both began to eat.

“A dangerous thing.” You quipped back.

Peter smiled but ignored your comment as he continued. “You’ve been working really hard lately and I think you deserve a break. So, no mind exploring today. With my help, today is now officially your day off.”

Finishing up your cereal, you frowned. “We can’t stop,” You said slowly, “I think I’m right on the edge of a breakthrough and I might be able to–”

“Nuh-uh, you deserve a break.” Peter cut in, “Besides, it’s my brain so I have veto power.”

The more rational part of you wanted to protest and point out how important the work you’ve been doing is. But the thought of spending the day just relaxing, especially with Peter, seemed far too tempting. 

After a few seconds, you sighed. “Alright.”

You had to hand it to Peter, the man knew how to plan a fun day.

Following breakfast, he proceeded to take you to the epitome of fun in the 1980s: the mall. Although the mall was usually not the most interesting place for you, spending hours wandering around with Peter was inexplicably fun. Somehow, laughing, shopping, and eating at the food court with the speedster made you feel like a teenager again.

The sun had already set when you returned to your house, both of you still in high spirits.

“I can’t believe you called Lady Gaga’s music freaky!” You laughed as you sat down on your couch.

“Because it is!” Peter responded, sitting down next to you.

“She’s  _ iconic _ !” You replied, rolling your eyes. “You’re just stuck on late 80’s music.”

Peter crossed his arms at your words. “Well, it’s clearly superior.”

You stood up, an idea occurring to you. You pulled out your phone and with a few clicks, you began playing music. “This calls for a Spotify playlist to prove you wrong.”

As the song you chose picked up speed, you began to dance along. Turning to Peter, you held out a hand. “Come on, don’t make me look stupid.”

Peter let out an exaggerated groan as he stood up and joined you in the center of the living room. “I don’t even know how to dance.”

“And you think I do?” You countered, gesturing to your attempts to sway your body to the beat.

Peter also joined in and you quickly found yourself jumping around the room, sporting matching smiles. A few minutes passed and the next song began to play, this time a much slower melody.

You contemplated skipping to another upbeat song until an idea occurred to you. Taking a few steps forward, you reached up and wrapped your arms around Peter’s neck. Realizing what you intended, Peter placed his hands on your waist and swayed you both to the beat.

You smiled at Peter. “Thanks for hanging out with me today.” You told him, “This has been the most fun I’ve had in a while.”

“I’m glad,” Peter said softly, “I like spending time with you.”

You silently noted that–swaying to the beat–this was probably the slowest you’d ever seen Peter move. The thought, along with Peter’s brown eyes staring intently at you, gave you a boost of confidence. “I know the situation sucks but I’m glad I met you, Peter.”

Peter let out a laugh at your words. “Minus the missing memories, I agree, I’m glad I met you too.”

A light fluttering erupted in your stomach and your eyes flickered to Peter’s lips before returning to his eyes. At that moment, you realized that Peter’s face had begun slowly moving toward yours. An unspoken question hung in the air as you stared into each other's eyes. Before you could begin to doubt yourself, you leaned forward and connected your lips with Peter’s.

You instantly felt a warmth blossom in your chest and a pleasant joy filled your body. Your eyes fluttered close as your mind focused on the feeling of Peter’s lips against your own.

_ Rise and shine, handsome _

The voice echoed in your mind, making you jump away from Peter. Feeling your heart racing in your chest, no longer because from the joy of kissing the speedster, you realized Peter was staring at you with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Peter said, his voice pleading, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable–”

“You–you didn’t hear that?” You asked the voice still echoing in your head. It sounded distinctly feminine so it didn’t make sense for it to be from Peter’s thoughts.

Peter continued to stare at you with wide eyes. “Hear what?”

“A–a woman,” You stammered, “She said ‘rise and shine, handsome’ but I swear it came from… your mind.”

“What are you talking about?”

Your heartbeat finally began to return to a normal pace but your body still felt alert. You walked forward and took Peter’s hands into your own. “Let me show you.”

After a beat, he nodded and so your hands glowed pink as you projected the sentence back at Peter. 

A few seconds passed and then he spoke. “I know that voice.”

“You do?” You replied, “From where?”

Peter frowned. “I… I don’t know.”

Impulsively, you reached a hand forward and brushed it against his cheek. “Do you think it might be from your missing memories?”

Peter contemplated your question for a few seconds. “I think so… yeah.”

The air suddenly felt heavy as the idea settled in your minds. Your best guess was that the voice belonged to Agatha Harkness but that still left the question of why her voice, hopefully from Peter’s memories, appeared in your head when you kissed him.

Oh god, you  _ kissed _ Peter. And he kissed you back.

A part of you was inclined to kiss him again but decided against it. The mood was definitely ruined and Agatha’s voice kept ringing in your head.

Sighing, you let go of Peter’s hand. “Well, this day took a turn.”

Peter smiled at your attempt at a joke. “Yeah, not exactly how I pictured this going.”

“That’s for sure,” You replied, taking a few steps back. “Well, tomorrow I think I could try using this when I go in your head. Maybe this is the edge we needed.”

Peter nodded. “Well, I guess I should head back to my hotel. Gotta get a good night’s sleep for tomorrow.”

As Peter bid you goodnight and made his way to the front door, one of his thoughts entered your head.

_ I wish I kissed her again. _


End file.
